Bulletproof Ideas
by Allistair
Summary: Drabble 3 Hide and Seek. How long has she been hiding? SPOILERS, Movieverse.
1. Introductions and Eyes

_For Silver Arrow 112: My vague attempt at _Challenge #11 **Eyes **_based on one of my favourite early scenes from the film._

_Also for all the other _**V For Vendetta**_ fans. _

_I own nothing go figure :) and this is movieverse  
_

_PS: V's dialogue in this was lifted from IMDB quotes… I can't get my head round most of the V speech unfortunately… let alone spell it _

* * *

The words tumbled from his lips one after the other, surely knotting his tongue several times over. And then he clasped his hands together and just laughed, releasing a soft but heavy sigh from the exertions of his speech. The light and almost giddy sound reverberated off the walls of the cold stone alley around them.

For a moment the moonlight caught the eyes behind the mask. In the hollow darkness of the holes Evey swore she saw a spark of life, of a dark shade - maybe blue, maybe green, then gone again in an instant. Just black, as before. And completely unreadable.

The laughter stopped, he sighed and took a small breath before falling into an elegant bow the likes of which she had never seen. The grace with which he moved to bow before her now was the same he'd used seconds before and she felt an uneasy chill zing down her spine and tensed. 'Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is my very good honour to meet you and you may call me V'.

And in the moment before she found the courage to speak Evey Hammond knew she had found someone not quite human.

Later she would think him _better_.


	2. The Summer Wind

_Muwhahaha… I return!_

_I wasn't quite sure what to do for the next drabble but during the leaving concert for my headmaster yesterday he sang us a song that just... struck a chord._

_So out comes a jukebox fic, set a short while after the end of the movie, so **SPOILERS**!_

_If I could put flashing lights on that I would ;)_

_Also big hugs to Peachmelba for reviewing, and big hugs to everyone else who read the first installment._

_Note: The song is 'Summer Wind', by Frank Sinatra originally but I've only got the Westlife version sheepish. If you can, try listening to it while reading._

* * *

The Return had been on the metaphorical cards for weeks now.

While the world above squabbled and argued, and politicians abounded, Evey Hammond couldn't pull her thoughts away from the small world V had left to her deep underground. A part of her hated that. This was his legacy, this new world, what V had given his life for.

But in that Shadow Gallery he had lived. Breathed. Both imprisoned and freed her. Fought valiantly against a suit of armour. Made her breakfast and sat and watched films…

And she knew that while she could escape his ghost, his memory, out here in the light, the moment she walked into that other world he'd be there again.

Part of her was frightened of that.

Part of her yearned for it.

oOo

The night was always the hardest time. It was his time. Evey would try and distract herself; it was always the same. The TV would grumble in the background, a few books - half started - would rest open over the arms of the sofa. Evey would busy herself making sure all her belongings were in place, with a meticulous fervour she hadn't had before.

Until the night she gave in.

oOo

Her feet led her to the underground, to the doorways she needed to enter, just the same way they led her home at the end of every day. She didn't consciously think about it, it just happened.

And she was there.

And so was everything else. Her old room stacked from floor to ceiling with books, the suits of armour lining the passages, the paintings that adorned almost every inch of wall. And that beautiful jukebox in the corner, glowing in the dim light like something divine.

In her mind she could hear the soft 'click' as a track was selected and then the momentary pause before the music began. V would be leaning over it, deliberating over his choice, or simply listening. His tall dark form bent over with what seemed a natural grace.

Now she took her place there. With trembling fingers she reached for a button, any button, just for some sound to ease the painful silence. Just for that reassuring 'click' to come back.

_The summer wind came blowing in  
From across the sea  
It lingered there to touch your hair  
And walk with me_

It was one of those crooning numbers, so soft and blatantly romantic she had half a mind to stop it, not that she knew how. Stepping away from the jukebox she looked out into the space by V's piano. They danced here, didn't they?

**'A revolution without dancing is a revolution not worth having.'**

_All summer long  
we sang a song  
And then we strolled that golden sand  
Two sweethearts and the summer wind_

The lights had dimmed further and those black-gloved hands had held hers so gently. They moved slowly together, as if they possessed all the time in the world, as if everything else could wait. As if it _would_ wait.

And did he know it then? On the eve of his revolution, that 4th of November, that tomorrow he would be gone? Did he know and stay silent, simply indulging in a dance?

Why did he ask that of her? Opportunity? Was she just someone who he saw could be a dancing partner, or did he want it to be shared with **her**?

_Like painted kites, those days and nights  
They went flying by  
The world was new beneath the blue  
Umbrella sky_

What had she meant to him? As if to protect her from the growing pain a feeling of anger welled up inside of her. Was she just another soul he wanted to 'free'?

Those last moments of his, in her arms on the train platform, what did they mean? She confessed all to him. And then he was gone.

And there was nothing. Nothing more that could be said. Could be done. Not between them. Just lay him to rest on the train that would fulfil the dream he had held for most of his life. Finish the vendetta that had consumed him completely.

Meant more to him than anything else.

More than anyone.

_Then softer than a piper man  
One day, it called to you  
I lost you I lost you to  
The summer wind_

Looking around his Shadow Gallery, now hers, Evey felt every bit as lost as before. Forcing her body to move she walked over to the sofa. She could hear him even now.

**'Find your own tree!'**

That rich voice comparable to none. How she had sat near tears.

**'He cared more about revenge than he did her'**

Curling up on the soft cushions Evey closed her eyes and listened as the song came to a close, biting her lips almost to the point of bleeding to try and stop the silent tears long overdue.

_The autumn wind  
And the winter winds  
They have come and gone  
And still those days  
Those lonely days  
They go on and on  
And guess who sigh's  
His lullabies through nights that never end  
My fickle friend,  
The summer wind  
The summer wind warm summer wind_

Maybe he had cared more about revenge.

**'I don't want you to die'**

**'That is the most beautiful thing you have ever given me.'**

_Mmm the summer wind_

Maybe he hadn't.


	3. Hide and Seek

_Oh boy… I'm back again. In my defence I did __really want to do a cheerful one after the last instalment._

_Unfortunately fate (ip-dip-do, dogs-got-flu to be precise) on a random list of themes lead me to the ominously named '30 Angsts', which does not bode well for the characters at all, or you __hehehee… I'll try harder on happiness next time._

_**LOVE AND KISSES TO:**_

_-Well, quite frankly anyone who's read any of these_

_-Especially **Aertikka **and **Piccolajules **for being sweeties._

_So, this theme is _**Hide and Seek**

_Voila!_

* * *

'I _will_ find you, **Brat**!'

'Don't call me that!'

'**Aha**!'

And Evey cringed from where she crouched behind her mothers' rose bush.

It _had_ seemed the perfect hiding place. Her brother would never go near it, the gap beneath it far too small for him, the branches far too prickly. Her arms were now testament to this, decorated with many uneven and red raw scratches.

And it was all for nothing.

'You're rubbish at this game, I don't want to play anymore' he sulked, as any eight year old boy in his position would.

He had been left to amuse his sister for an afternoon. The sun was shining - a rarity in itself - and their mother had wanted five minutes peace and quiet. The air was lukewarm drifting lazily around the two children. Not quite hot enough to be stuffy, but most definitely not cold either. A perfect summers day.

But _not_ for sharing with little sisters.

'Once more, I'll hide really good this time!' she insisted. Just one more attempt to thwart him. She could do it.

She knew she could.

He sighed as if terribly put out before smiling slightly. 'Go on then, hide, I'll count to thirty this time…'

The clouds started to hang a little heavier in the sky, as faraway blue slowly dulled to grey.

oOo

What was it about today that brought that memory back?

Down in the Shadow Gallery time was almost meaningless. No ray of sun to prompt reminiscing on the past. No soft breeze just like all those years ago. Few years if you counted them, but ones that weighed like centuries on her slender shoulders.

So much change in so little time.

Evey shuddered where she sat, on the bed V had given her to use. The books stacked around her like a shield from the outside world. Maybe a shield from the real one.

And the horrors in it.

Her brother had long been just a memory, ditto the games they played together. When she thought of him the first image that sprung to mind was that hospital bed.

The rag doll form hidden and blurred beneath a plastic tent. Tubes and wires and machines.

And her parents, holding her hands so tightly.

oOo

**'Evey! Hide!'**

The bedroom door flung open in the middle of the night, a solid slam as it was thrown shut again. Awake in an instant Evey barely had time to register the look of horror on her mothers' face. Just knew she **had** to obey.

Off the bed. Under the bed. She curled up small so she could fit, even thought she was getting too big. Teddy clutched in tightly fisted hands. White knuckles.

An almighty crash far too close for comfort. A shudder ran through her small body.

_Mummy…?_

_**Mummy**…?_

There was noise, lots of noise. Shouting. Screaming. People storming into the room.

A heavy crack resounded round the small room and then the wide-eyed stare of her mother, lying bare inches away.

Then the black bag made it go away.

oOo

The black bags…

Looking up from where she sat on the sofa Evey found her eyes drifting around the room. This wasn't the Gallery. Foreign place. Foreign smells. A deep, warm, voice, somewhat familiar…

Gordon's. She was at Gordon's house now.

Light came in through the windows to tell her it was encroaching on morning, another night lost to aimless thoughts of the past.

Another day in hiding began.

How long had it been?

Truthfully?

A couple of months in the Shadow Gallery. A couple more with Gordon.

But how long had she _really_ been hiding?

Almost all her life.

And that was the thought she really couldn't escape. Couldn't hide from. She didn't even know how to.

But even as she sat, on a plush sofa in the morning sunlight, someone was sitting and thinking how he _could_ set her free from hiding.

How he _would_ set her free.

_Forever_.


End file.
